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Chapter 85: Dawn of a Great House!
🕑 Added 2024-05-10 20:27:50 +0000 UTCAs dawn's light began to paint the skies above Pyke, its first rays fell upon the stark, grey stones of the castle, and the sea beyond murmured with restless energy. Inside, the chambers where Damian had spent the night in victorious celebration with Dacey were bathed in a gentle blush of sunlight. Rising silently from the bed, Damian looked upon Dacey's sleeping form with a softness that belied the steel required of the Lord of the Iron Islands. With great care not to disturb her, he dressed quietly, his mind already turning to the solemnities of the day.
The previous night had seen the arrival of key figures to Pyke: Stannis Baratheon, commanding the Royal Navy, had made landfall under the cover of darkness. Ser Barristan Selmy, the embodiment of knightly honor, and Ser Wylis Manderly, alongside other lords victorious from Harlaw and Orkmont, had followed close behind. Their conquests had been swift, spurred by King Robert's ravens, which had flown far and wide, heralding Balon Greyjoy's fall and Damian Stark's rise as the new sovereign of the Iron Islands.
The raven's message had stirred the waters across the Iron Islands; a Stark would now rule the Iron Island, but it would not be easy, as the history of Iron Island shows. The remaining lords and captains of the defeated islands had been brought in to swear fealty to King Robert and, by extension, to Damian, binding their fate to his newfound authority.
Today, Damian was to formally accept the fealty of the Ironborn lords in a grand ceremony, a rite that would not only seal his dominion but also bind him to King Robert's service before the watchful eyes of the realm. It was a day destined to be inscribed in the annals of the Iron Islands and remembered in the songs of the bards.
After ensuring all preparations were in order with Sirius, Damian made his way back to his chambers. The morning air was brisk, laden with the scent of salt and the distant cries of gulls wheeling above Pyke's towering spires. The castle, though cold and damp, was beginning to stir with the day's significance.
Damian's thoughts were focused as he entered his room, intent on readying himself for the formalities that awaited. The chamber was bathed in the pale light of dawn, shadows flickering across the stone walls. However, a quick glance around revealed Dacey's absence. The space that had felt so intimate the previous night now seemed emptier.
"She must have returned to her quarters," Damian mused, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he recalled how she asked him to wake her up today but he just couldn't see her sleeping form.
Damian moved to the sturdy wooden wardrobe, its iron hinges creaking softly as he opened it. Inside, his attire for the day awaited—a tunic of deep grey, embroidered with the direwolf of House Stark, paired with a cloak of thick wool, ideal for the chill winds of Pyke. He donned his clothing with swift, practiced movements, each piece easily falling into place. The weight of his runic bronze sword, hanging at his hip, brought a familiar comfort, its dragon-pommel gleaming subtly in the muted light.
Outside his chamber, Jory and Selena awaited, garbed aptly for the day's solemnity. Their attire was well-suited, though Damian mused briefly on its origins—perhaps liberated from the storied wardrobes of the Greyjoys or bartered hastily from Pyke's wary traders. His own garments, requisitioned through the help of System, bore a cost measured ten times its worth you would find in the real world.
"Ready, my lord?" Jory inquired, his voice low and respectful, tinged with the ever-present loyalty of a Cassel.
"As ready as one can be," Damian replied, his tone firm but laced with an undercurrent of anticipation. "The Great Hall awaits, and so do the eyes of the realm."
The trio made their way through Pyke's winding corridors, the stone walls echoing their footsteps. The keep was alive with the murmurs of gathered lords and the rustle of banners fluttering in the drafty halls. Each step brought them closer to the heart of the day's proceedings. Arsen joined him in between; he seemed to have been rather occupied by Dacey's mother for the past two nights but only after the summon got his blessings.
As they approached the entrance to the Great Hall, the herald's voice rang out, clear and commanding. "Lord Damian Stark, Lord of the Iron Islands, approaches!"
The hall fell into a hush, the assembled lords and ladies turning their gazes towards the entrance.
Damian entered the hall, his gaze steady and unyielding, taking in the sight of the gathered nobility.
Banners bearing the direwolf of House Stark flanked those of the crowned stag of Baratheon, symbolizing the unity of their houses. The salt throne stood empty, the dark oily black kraken stark against the opulence around it; King Robert occupied a less ostentatious seat to its side, a goblet of wine in hand.
King Robert rose from his seat beside the formidable-looking Salt Throne with a boisterous laugh that echoed off the hall's stone walls. His goblet, filled to the brim with the nectar of celebration, was hoisted aloft in a gesture both welcoming and commanding. "Damian!" he bellowed, the name rolling off his tongue with the familiarity of an old friend. "Aye, the hour has found its man! Come forth, and let us bear witness to the dawn of a new lord upon these iron shores!"
At his side, Ned Stark offered a nod of acknowledgement, his expression full of pride.
In the grandeur of the hall, where shadows danced amidst the flickering torchlight, the assembled nobility stood witness to this historic moment. Even the Lords of the Iron Islands, weathered by salt and sea, lent their presence to the occasion, a silent testament to the gravity of the hour.
King Robert descended from the dais with the grace of a lion descending from its perch, his footsteps resonating with the weight of kingship. "Today," he proclaimed, his voice a thunderclap that silenced the murmurs of the court, "You shall see the rise of a new Great House of the realm."
Robert's laughter mellowed to a quiet murmur as he drew Damian closer, his eyes gleaming with keen anticipation. "Tell me, Damian, have you settled on a name and sigil for your fledgling house?" he inquired.
For two restless nights, Damian had pondered over a suitable name for his house, considering several that sounded cool or epic. Yet, conscious of his current standing and the delicate sensibilities it might provoke, he opted for a name that not only envisioned his house's future role but also paid homage to his origins.
With a gravity that anchored him as firmly as the Wall itself, Damian stepped forward. "House Solstark," he proclaimed, his voice resolute as the winter sky.
King Robert's expression deepened, his eyes studying Damian intently, a flicker of intrigue mingling with respect. "Solstark," he echoed, tasting the syllables as if they were aged wine, redolent of storied pasts.
"Sol has many meanings in old tongues: Sun, Dawn, bright, warmth, Sunfire. Stark is my origin, so I am 'Solstark'. In simple terms it means
"A well-chosen name," Robert declared, his voice a low growl softened by a trace of esteem. "May your house stand valiant and unwavering, as steadfast as the stars above." With a nod of solemn approbation, he extended his royal blessing to the newly minted House Solstark, a harbinger of hope in an era rife with upheaval.
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What do you guys think about the House name? It was truly a headache for me to choose one. I brainstormed numerous house names and it took me four fucking days, to get down to Solstark. If you can think of a sigil related to the house name and motto as well I will be deeply grateful. Anyway, leave your comments behind.
Comments
Axel wheel
I had thought of numerous names relating to sharks, killer whales, Levanthians, etc but nothing seemed acceptable to me.
Arcturus
Not sure, maybe better something with sea or iron theme? Like Sultstark, Ironwolf(Ironwoods send their regards) or go away from wolf and take white shark as symbol(Damien of house Carcharodons) as new beginning for him and his descendents
